


Algebraic Notation

by kimbleefucker (hihowareya)



Series: Checkmate [4]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Gen, by original character i mean one that actually would exist but has an original concept here, i.e. kimblee's mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 00:33:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15401028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hihowareya/pseuds/kimbleefucker
Summary: Post-Promised Day, Ed and Al run into a woman in Central who bears a striking resemblance to a face from their past; through her they learn that truly, he was just a human like them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Before I upload the next few fics which are all NSFW (like, 4 of them) I figure I should add to this. A lot of people have written fics where Ed meets the families or friends of previous enemies or acquaintances and I've read about 3 where that relates to Kimblee so if you have as well this will probably just seem like yet another one but hey, what can you do. Some things mentioned here have also been referenced in Swiss System so for continuity sake I'm sticking with them, though not too important.

The clunking sound of Ed's leather boots on the polished floors of Central's main office brought more attention to the two brothers than Al wanted. “Really Ed,” he would say, “can't you dress a little more professionally?” 

 

“Who cares?” Ed scoffed and folded his arms behind his head. “It's not like they can get me in trouble for it, big deal.” Truly his apathy towards the military and its officers hadn't change. The brothers had only just departed General Mustang's office but 5 minutes ago, only here to review information with him regarding the Promised Day. Nearly a year later, and he was still filing reports about it. He was certainly kept busy. “You think they're gonna do anything about all that?” Ed asked Al eventually. “Can't imagine how many of those guys were in line with it...” He was intentionally vague, but Al understood anyway.

 

“I dunno... there were a lot of people involved, but how many are still alive? I can't believe it's all over though...” The clicking sound of his cane on the ground punctuated their walking, and as they waved to the secretary in their departure Ed noticed the clock in the lobby and suddenly panicked.

 

“Oh jeeze Al look at the time we're definitely gonna miss our train!” He hurriedly ran to the door and swung it open as Al hobbled after him. Ed watched behind him as Al tried to keep up. “Come on come on!”

 

He ushered Al and suddenly turned to run out the door as he heard Al's warning of 'Brother look out!', but it was too late and he'd already felt himself collide with someone and topple to the ground. In a short moment Al was upon them and chastising Ed.

 

“Ed, you need to be more careful- you can't just run all over the place without looking where you're going!”

 

“Yeah yeah... it's my fault...” Ed rubbed his head idly and jumped to his feet suddenly and extended a hand down to the woman rubbing her wrist. “I'm sorry ma'am, I wasn't paying attention, please lemme help you up.” Her sharp blue eyes met his golden ones and felt a strange sense of nostalgia that he couldn't quite place that was quickly dissipated by her kind, maternal smile. She reached a pale hand up to take his and got back on her feet, her long dark hair fell to her back, with her long forelocks clipped back and out of the way. She wasn't especially tall, but she was rather thin, and while it was fairly obvious she was middle aged she had a sense of feminine beauty that betrayed her years.

 

“I'm sorry, I was standing in your way. I guess I must have just zoned out a bit...” There was something about her eyes, that both Ed and Al noticed, that made her seem sad, uncertain, perhaps confused. Ed noticed that in their collision she had dropped a handful of papers and quickly bent down to gather them up for her. “Well thank you-” She began.

 

As Ed gathered up her documents his eyes idly scanned over a few words here and there. 'Apologies', 'sorrow', 'regret', 'death'. He was able to deduce that she must be here to have been informed of the death of a loved one. His golden eyes softened when he considered the pain of losing someone like that, a child or a parent. He noticed among the belongings was a familiar pocket watch- a state alchemist? He wondered if perhaps it was one of the ones lost to Scar until his eyes glanced over the word 'Crimson' and he did a double take. At a closer examination he found the only name he thought he could associate with the word in the the addressing of the letter to a Selma Kimblee and felt his heart skip a beat. He must have been staring longer than he intended to, because after a moment she asked him “Did you know my son?”

 

Ed stood and handed her the papers, unsure of how to answer. What could he say? 'Yeah, but he tried to kill me a few times, we were on bad terms' or something? He considered for a moment how to skate around it when he decided to settle for a simple “Yes ma'am, we did.” Al gave Ed a confused glance but when it was met with Ed's certain eyes, he settled and waited for more details.

 

“I see...” Her grip tightened a bit on the papers, but her eyes remained dry, something both Ed and Al were thankful for; they were both terrible with handling women crying. “I'm... sorry, if he caused you any trouble.” Ed considered for a moment the best approach to take and at her down turned eyes, studying the papers clutched in her hands, he clapped her on the shoulder.

 

“He and us, we weren't always on the best terms, we didn't see eye to eye persay. But in the end, he saved my butt. I might not be here if not for him. So I think we're even.” Ed's warm smile at this seemed to soften her gaze. Al looked questionably from his brother to this woman and cleared his throat a bit.

 

“Ed, I think we might have missed our train, what do you wanna do?” They definitely missed their train.

 

“Ahh, shoot, the next one is in a few hours then, isn't it?” Ed scratched the back of his head thoughtfully and the woman (presumably Selma) looked at the boys apologetically.

 

“I'm sorry- this is my fault, I kept you boys here...”

 

“Don't worry about it ma'am, we're really not in that much of a rush.”

 

“ _Then why were you running out the door...._ ” Al smiled and shook his head at his brother.

 

“Hey, if you're not too busy, would you like to grab somethin' to eat with us? Not to be presumptuous, but maybe you'd wanna talk a bit more positively about-” Ed hesitated, it would be weird to say 'Kimblee' to someone who shared the name. Sometimes Ed forgot that wasn't his given name. “-Solf.” He finished. The name felt weird on his tongue.

 

All at once Al understood the situation and Ed had to envy his ability to keep his composure, but he could tell the guilt well up in Al's eyes. Al had spoken to him, after that day. He blamed himself for Kimblee's death. “We shouldn't have left him there” he would say. “We had Dr. Marcoh with us, we could have saved him”... Ed could tell that Al had so much he wished he could say to Selma. So much he wished he could apologize for. All at once Ed returned to the matter at hand at Selma's quick refusal of:

 

“Oh no, I couldn't- I would feel like I was taking advantage of you boys.”

 

Ed grinned and pulled out his pocket watch and saw her eyes widen. “Trust me, I get a pretty decent paycheck from this place, it's no trouble at all. I insist, really.” Her eyes softened and a gentle smile touched on her face, and she gave him a kind admission of 'alright'.

 

With that, they departed Central office.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed, Al and Selma go to a cafe to discuss her son.

They'd chosen a small cafe just a few blocks away from the train station. They'd come here a few times with Maes Hughes a while back, so it held a special meaning. On the shared cab ride, Ed and Al introduced themselves and properly met Selma Kimblee.  
After placing their orders, Ed contemplated how to speak to Selma. If she was anything like her son, she would notice anything, everything- any body language that could give away his feelings or any mood they displaced into the environment, she would notice. He would have noticed. Ed spoke first, he decided. 

“So, Mrs. Kimblee...” 

“Please, call me Selma. It's true I've kept the name but my husband and I divorced a long time ago.”

“Right, Ms. Selma... Do you live in Central?” 

“No, I live in a small town outside of East City. When I got married, we had moved there as that's where my husband was from, but I was born in East City. My husband set up his shop there and that's where we stayed I suppose.” She stopped to thank the waitress for her tea, taking a slow sip as Ed and Al thanked the waitress for their respective orange juice and water. 

“What kind of shop did he own?” Al asked her kindly.

“My husband was a tailor, primarily. But he also specialized in things like embroidery and really anything to do with textiles. That man could make anything look like it was worth double its cost.” She dropped 2 cubes of sugar into her teacup and stirred it idly. “My son- Solf- he wasn't bad at it either, but he was more inclined to put his focus into alchemy, and my husband wasn't very happy about that. He'd always say, 'who will take over this place when I'm gone?' and I would never have an answer for him...”

“Alchemy is like that, it really grabs you...” Ed recalled his own childhood filled with alchemy books, crude alchemic statues and his mothers smile. “Al and I, we started at a young age too, our mom was so proud to see what we could make.”

“Our dad, he was an alchemist, and a really good one. I think our studying it reminded our mom of him.” Al smiled warmly at her.

“I see.... forgive me for asking, did you boys lose your father...?” Ed and Al seemed taken aback at first but their quick recovery diverged into smiles not long after.

“Yeah... we did, recently.” Ed began. “But to be honest, we didn't really see him for most of our life, so I can't say we were super close....”

“Still, he did what he could for us, and that's really what matters.”

“I wish I could say the same for my husband.” Selma gripped her teacup a bit tighter. “My husband was a fairly... selfish man. After he'd decided that Solf would be of no use to him, in his own business, he expected us to have another child. And I had no issue with that, but my body didn't want to cooperate... and so he left. I would say Solf was about... seven years old.” 

She unknowingly spoke directly to the part of Ed that still held resentment for his father, for leaving when they needed him. For abandoning his family. He thought for a bit.

“Did... did he hate him?”

“What?”

“Ki-... Solf, did he resent your husband... for leaving like that...” 

With no attempt to hide his emotion, Ed could tell Selma read directly into what he was saying and why he said it. Al said nothing, but stared down at the glass of water in front of him intently. 

“He did, at first. In time he grew to accept that sometimes, people are just selfish for their own reasons... perhaps that's why he ended up where he did.”

“You mean... in prison?” Al's tone was cautious as he approached the subject of her son's imprisonment. 

“Yes... when he was deployed, to the war in Ishval, he was only 24 years old. I was against it of course, I didn't want my son going to fight. But we didn't really have a say in the matter, and...” She looked down and away, unable to meet the eyes of the Elric brothers across from her. “...the day he left for Ishval, that was the last day I ever saw my son ever again.” 

They sat in silence for a while. The waitress had returned and placed their plates in front of them, but no one moved to touch it. And how could they, with an aura like this surrounding them. After a moment, Selma spoke again.

“You know I... was never told he was released from prison. While he was there, they never let me visit him or speak to him, saying it was for my own good. All this time, I thought that's where he'd be. And then I received a letter from the military, stating my son- that Solf had been released over a year ago, and that he had died in combat. After what he was imprisoned for, they took him back as a soldier again, deployed him into missions, and when he died...” Her voice began to quiver and it was obvious she was using all her strength to maintain composure. “When he died... I didn't find out until so long after. And all they could give me was this.” She reached into her purse and pulled out the familiar pocket watch. “There were no remains. Nothing for me to see or confirm. I came to Central today to retrieve all and any belongings pertinent to Solf, and this watch is all I have.” She clicked the top, and after a few presses it finally opened, the time incorrect. “And he hasn't touched it in so long, the battery is dead. I bet he hasn't seen it since the war.” She clasped the watch again and set it aside.

Ed swallowed hard. Admittedly all this time, he'd had a hard time thinking of Kimblee as a human, as person. His allying himself with the homunculus aside, there was always something about him that seemed ominous or unnatural. The way he carried himself, his uncanny attention to detail, his impressive ability of recollection. Even just the way he walked seemed fluid and thought out, like everything he did was not of this world. But still, to know he had a mother, who loved him so very much, a father who betrayed his family's trust, hobbies or goals... there was a small part of Ed that wished they could have met under better circumstances. That maybe, outside of this conflict, he had the capacity to be just a normal guy. 

He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard Al start to talk then stop. He looked over at his brother's face and could see the struggle, the emotion fluttering back and forth. To some degree though, he was appreciative of being able to see it... to see Al show emotion at all. 

“M-Ms Selma...” he finally choked out, his fists were clutching the fabric of his slacks. “I have... something I need to confess to you...”

“Al-” Ed put his hand on his brother's shoulder.

“Brother please... I need to talk to her.”

Selma looked at Al with kind but curious blue eyes. Their sharp angle had reminded them of Kimblee, but they had never known him to look at anyone so kindly. 

“Ma'am... I don't know how to say this in a way that... is going to make sense but...” He hesitated now and again, carefully thinking of the best way to phrase this. “I... I was there, when he- when Solf died.” His eyes rose to meet hers and found her expression unchanged, still kind, and listening. “I can't really explain what happened.... but I feel like I could have saved him. It's my fault he's not here and... I'm sorry.” His voice quivered with guilt and recollection. He didn't blame Heinkel for what he did, the spur of the moment thinking saved their lives. If he hadn't, Kimblee would have killed them for sure. But that didn't mean they had to leave him there, with Pride. 

“Can I ask you something, Alphonse?” 

“Of course-”

Her voice became a bit straighter now, fixed with conviction;

“Did he suffer? My son... was he....” She trailed off as Al became choked up. Against his strong will, a single tear fell into his tomato soup. 

“I'm sorry... I can't say for sure, but... it was not that easy...” Al debated on sparing her feelings or being honest and felt that a lie about that would only spare her so much. The pain that he must have felt, lying there, dying slowly, alone... even for an enemy, it wasn't something Al wished on anyone. As he clenched his eyes shut and prepared for the hurt to unfold on this woman's face, he was pulled from his thoughts by a warm hand on his shoulder and looked up to meet the kind eyes and warm smile of Selma.

“Alphonse, if I can't even bring myself to cry, there's no reason you should.” Al wiped his eyes and smiled back at her, thankful if only for the sense of forgiveness he felt in her maternal gaze. Her hand returned to her to grasp the handle of her teacup again and she sighed.

“My son... he did things that I don't understand. I don't think I ever will. Things that would have many assume he was a very bad man. Perhaps... that is equivalent exchange. His death was merely a reflection of his actions here.” She lifted the cup to her lips and took a sip, and lowered the cup a little to speak. “But perhaps it's the wishful thinking of a mother to think that her child isn't all bad... that the boy I raised never disappeared.” 

As Ed and Al mulled over her words, she set her cup down and clapped her hands together. “Now then let's not let our food go to waste then.” With that the mood shifted and they spoke of things like alchemy, automail and learned of her own hobby in floral arrangements. Here or there she would mention Kimblee- they learned that he was rather skilled at floral arrangements himself. That it was partially what inspired his state alchemist title, Crimson Lotus. That while he kept a great deal for himself, given that he was satisfied with his unique brand of alchemy, most of the research fund given to him by the state was sent to Selma, instead.

“Ma'am,” Ed began, finishing his last bite of food. “if it's okay for me to ask, how old would Solf have been now..?” He had to admit he was a bit curious, he didn't know that much about him.

“Well, his birthday would have just passed in the beginning of July so, he would have been 31 now.” 

“I see...” He didn't say aloud that he was thinking “Mom was around that age too when she....”

“You know, I do have this...” She reached into her purse and pulled out her pocketbook. Quickly she was able to access a small folded rectangle, which she unfolded and handed to Ed. “It's a bit old, from a few days before he left, but it's all I have really.” 

Ed took the photograph and bent it back against the sharp crease to get a better view, and Al leaned over to look too. It was an old photo of Selma and Solf. She looked a bit younger, a bit less tired. Ed thought it was strange to see Kimblee wearing the traditional Amestrian military uniform, but he was still otherwise recognizable as himself. His expression characteristically complacent however a bit softer, a bit kinder, as he stood next to his mother, whom was a great deal shorter than him. If he stood at around 5'10, she must be only about 5'2. She seemed thinner now, as well.

“Handsome thing, he was the spitting image of his father.” She smiled and her voice turned jovial; “I was always hoping he would bring me home a grandchild some day.” She chuckled to herself and called the waitress over for another cup of tea, this time one without caffeine. Ed handed the photo back to her. “There was one girl who I thought might become my daughter in law some day, but he cut that off as soon as the Fuhrer issued Order 3066.” She accepted the cup back from the waitress with gratitude, and then noticed Ed and Al's perplexed expressions. “I'm sorry, have I said something wrong?”

“I-It's not that, we're just a bit surprised to hear that is all.” Al laughed nervously.

“Er we just thought he might be...” Selma chuckled and raised an eyebrow.

“Gay?” Both brothers laughed and nodded. “You wouldn't be the first, and I myself think that was probably half true, he just never found the time to tell me...” Her lemongrass tea bubbled from the movement of her hand then settled. “It wouldn't have mattered to me either way.” 

They finished and paid their bill and departed towards the train station. “Will you be taking the train too ma'am?” Al asked her politely.

“No, there's still quite a bit I need to do here in Central. A lot of records pertaining to Solf are still here, so I'm going to be collecting them all...” 

“Right... then this is goodbye then.” Ed extended his hand to her and after an unsure moment she shook it, and repeated with Al. “I'm sorry we couldn't offer you more peace of mind...”

“It's quite alright. You boys helped me plenty. If you're ever passing through East City, do feel free to stop by.” 

Ed almost raised his hand in a salute before considering it and turning it into a wave instead; Al waved as well, and Selma repeated. 

The Elric brothers boarded their train and took their seats and reclined as the train jostled in its departure. 

After about 20 minutes Al turned to Ed. “Hey Ed...”

“Yeah?”

“Did she remind you of mom too?”

Ed had to stop for a moment to consider; he wouldn't have said it out loud before, but she did. Her undying love for her son, regardless of who he was, was something that reminded him of his own mother.

“A bit, yeah.” 

“Do you think... our mom would have smiled so fondly when she thought of us?”

“...Definitely. Most definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's that for now! sorry for my disjointed writing style. as i said the next few are all nsfw... and are also all kimblee centric, so i hope thats something yall are interested in. also, heterosexual kimblee is a lie. it doesn't exist. that man is not straight.  
> also i never really get comments so if you get the chance i appreciate them!


End file.
